To The Night Sky
by Fairy Laughing
Summary: Zechs and Noin on their last night together before leaving Lake Victoria Academy. I've taken a bit of creative license. A romantic vignette.


Author's Note: I haven't done a Gundam Wing fanfiction in ages... much less one like this? Don't think I've ever done one, as I tend to steer away from romance, but well, here it is. Zechs and Noin, on their last night before leaving each other for a very long time. I think I've kept them fairly in character, but I'd love feedback on that, and my general ability in romance for that matter.

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: These aren't my characters, I'm just playing in the playground like everyone else. I make no money off of this, and all I gain is lovely reviews if you would be so kind as to leave them. Gundam Wing and all associated characters belong to Bandai and Sunrise if I remember correctly.

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To The Night Sky

by Fairy Laughing

I carried her into the room like some helpless heroine in a gothic fairy tale – the dark little maiden and her masked lover. Her lack of protest surprised and amused me, but then Noin had been full of surprises tonight.

It was our last day here, at Lake Victoria Academy (together, that is) and we were returning from the final party. Last night had been the formal and I was awarded placement somewhere far away, in my own mobile suit. Noin was to stay here and teach, probably, at least until her old grandmother in the nearby town finally dies. I know that sounds morbid and cruel, but the old bat is stubbornly refusing to die. Some times I find it hard to think of her as being a real person, you know. She doesn't react to anything; move, think, she can't even breathe on her own and is hooked up to dozens of machines to do that for her. It's eerie. Still, Noin confides in her. I think that if she'd seen Noin tonight, that would have garnered a response of some sort.

I don't think there was a person in the entire ballroom today who didn't turn their head to look at her. First of all because she was stunning, secondly because Miss So-what-if-I'm-a-girl was wearing a dress. On few other occasions had I ever seen Noin in a dress. She wasn't that sort of girl, except in the heat of summer when most of the males had half a mind to adopt a similar white cotton sundress. In fact, I could remember some names of those who did... But this was different. Noin wore a strappy, slinky number, black as polished ebony and seemingly sprinkled with fairy dust. The cut accentuated her figure well, clinging like a second skin around her beautifully curved body and revealing all of her strong arms and lovely neck area. Black against white, was the dress on her skin, after spring and winter's meagre sunlight. On her feet were small, black flat sandals, glossy and simple. I don't think she knew how to walk in heels.

Noin had also gone through the effort of putting on make-up, also a surprise from her. It was light, mostly just highlighting her already beautiful features. The violet in the eye shadow bringing out her eye colour and the lip stick making her mouth childlike and very kissable. Those indigo eyes shone with what seemed to be starlight, and her short, dark hair gleamed as if it were the night. She wore jewelry too – to top it off – small, star-shaped earrings and a pendant of similar form, all in silver, gleaming in the twilight She admitted that she had help with the outfit, but I doubted it.

Noin danced as she never had before, and we had a wonderful time, to put it simply. I've never seen her dance like that – it was her style, no doubt. Who else but Noin could make a simple ballroom into a battle ground, dancing as if I were her opponent, challenging me, leading me, letting me lead, and then back again at the challenge. It was like sparring.

And now here she is, sprawled across a bed, conquered in a sense, and I over her. She's lit candles, and in their orange halos she's even more desirable, her hair mused, shoes discarded, and the straps of her dress falling down her shoulders to reveal a shadow of cleavage. Laughter and something else sparkles in her eyes.

I rid myself of my jacket and boots and all of that until I am in my tight, white breeches and mask only and fall onto her bed, straddling her about the hips like a cowboy leaning down to smell her hair. Shampoo and perfume mingle... what is it? Not floral, but citrus maybe? And the perfume... dark, oriental, spicy? Jasmine perhaps, or some sort of musk, but still undeniably feminine. Her body is smooth and hard shifting beneath me. Softer flesh, yielding breasts, press against me. Quickly, deftly, her painted finger-tips work off my breeches, leaving me open to the cold air. I kiss her neck, her hair, her jaw line, working my way down her neck kissing and licking and sucking like a nursing kitten unable to find a nipple. That point where her neck attaches to her body, those beautifully formed clavicals, that little fold of flesh where her arms join her body. Our bodies burn against each other, her hand on me, flesh against flesh, lips against lips. The dress slips down a little more at last, and her breasts are there, dramatically lit in the candlelight., and I don't think I could ask for more.

Suddenly, Noin pulls away. Her dark lipstick stains my lips and smudges around her lips like a child who's been eating blueberries. I know what's coming – Noin, please don't ruin this moment with that question.

"Zechs," She begins softly, huskily, one hand resting on my cool mask. "Let me see your face."

"No, Noin."

"Please Zechs?" She asks, her hair falling into her eyes, covering those diamond stars like the veil of deep night.

"I can't let you do that..." I sigh, explaining again, "It could put you in danger."

"You don't think that I can handle a little bit of danger?" She asks sharply, glaring at me from behind that veil.

"I put myself, by choice, in danger each time I step into a mobile suit. Each time I choose to do a battle of swords against you. I think that I can choose to see your face."

"Noin..."

"Quit it with this nobility stuff. We'll be separating soon, going different ways. I want to see you in case..." Her voice quavered. "In case I never get to again."

How could I argue against that? "Will you hate me after you see me?"

"You aren't hiding a third eye under there, are you?"

I crack a smile. "Nope."

"Then I'm fine."

"Okay, but I want to know your real name first."

"Noin."

"Your full name."

"Rumplestiltskin."

I laugh, "L. Noin. What does the L. stand for?"

Laura? Lauren? Lucy? Lucile? Lilian? Lily? Lazy-bones?

"Zechs..."

"Secret for a secret, now tell me."

"Lucretzia." She admits, with a bit of an accent to it. I think it's Italian or Latin, though Noin is definitely Germanic. "My name is Lucretzia Noin."

"Lucretzia." I repeat, the name rolling off my tongue beautifully.

She gently pries away my mask, letting it fall to the bed with a soft thud, seeing me without clothes or mask – entirely exposed – what does she think of me, my pale skin and paler hair? I don't really think I care, now that I know her name, a little more about this mysterious lover...

She gives a gasp and stammers, wide-eyed, touching my face as if it were made of porcelain, "Zechs, you're...

"Lucretzia..." I whisper.

"Beautiful." We both say, and then smile at each other.

"Lucretzia. Lucretzia. Luctrezia." I mutter over and over again, like a prayer while she touches my face, running her fingers over the soft skin that hasn't seen true sunlight in years.

It's as if she's found some sort of hidden treasure. She kisses my cheeks, my lips, my nose, my forehead and my eyelids each in turn, enveloping me in those arms like moonbeams, and the night is in her hair and the stars in her eyes.

Fin.

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End file.
